I'm Gonna Capture You/Story
This page contains the story of I'm Gonna Capture You. I'm Gonna Capture You “Hey, babe, happy ten years.” Stringer nonchalantly opened a pop bottle, not looking up, “I’m 28.” Tubby chuckled, then looked up at Scotty sitting not too far away, not doing much. “Did we ever tell you how we got together?” “Bubblegum Project?” was all Scotty said. Tubby laughed again, lovingly glancing at Stringer. When Stringer noticed he walked over to where Scotty sat on the couch, setting his bottle on the coffee table. He then sat on the arm of the chair. “Okay, so-” (...) Junior year was as slow and tiresome as ever. Stringer sat at the back of class, only paying attention because the teacher was pairing students for a project. “Tubby Beagle and Stringer Spaniel, you two are together, you’ve also got the 60s.” Stringer could feel Tubby’s eyes shooting daggers at him, even in front of him. When the teacher called for the class to move toward their partners, Tubby was already scribbling in his notebook. Stringer silently slid down into the chair next to him. Tubby sighed and stared more daggers at his new partner. “....hi," Stringer greeted. A nervous smile cross his face and he brought up one hand. “Hey, I don’t expect you to do much on this,” Tubby responded quickly, tapping the end of his pen against his book, making tiny dots of frustration. Stringer blinked in surprise, “What, because you’ll take it all or you think I’m an idiot?” Tubby just smiled smugly and turned back to his notes. “Excuse you, I know plenty about the 60s,” Stringer huffed, staring at Tubby’s writing, “Elvis was in the 60s, The Twist was in the 60s, The Archies were in the 60s, Stonewall was in the 60s-” “Do you know who threw the first bottle at Stonewall?” “Sylvia Rivera,” Stringer smiled, just as smug as Tubby’s. Tubby’s smug smile fell and half-lidded amazement went over his face. “Are you gay?” was the next thing he asked. Stringer nodded without a second of thought. “Cool,” Tubby went on, “I doubt the teacher would appreciate a queer essay, and you’re second chair in band so… you wanna do it over music?” Stringer was a bit taken aback, and just stared at him. “What, because you know I’m gay now you like me?” “I like you because I don’t have to worry about you calling me the f-word now,” his face became more serious, “And if you say one thing about my Judaism I will not hesitate to murder you, Stringer Spaniel.” “...I didn’t even know you were Jewish.” (...) The project, as Stringer and Tubby would soon find out, would be taking the place of their final. If they did well they wouldn't have to take it. Overall, they had four months to complete the project- since dubbed The Bubblegum Project by Tubby and Sugar, buh-dum-dum-dum-da-dum-dumm, Oh Honey, Honey by Stringer- which would be plenty of time, granted there were no roadblocks.. In Stringer’s mind, this was an opportunity for Tubby to befriend him but in Tubby’s, it was his own personal hell. ...it would've been his personal hell. If not for the fact that two months and a questioning about Stringer bringing his guitar with him everyday led to Stringer revealing he was homeless. Then, and only then, Tubby softened. Because now Stringer was a full-time roommate and a full-time schoolmate. “I like you like this,” Stringer muttered quietly, absolutely derailing Tubby’s zoned out memory reel. “That's the creepiest thing you've ever said.” “You're not mad at me all the time! It's nice!” “I’ve never been mad at you.” “You're a dirty, dirty liar, Tubby Beagle!” Stringer giggled. Tubby smiled, refocusing on the project. ...he would've refocused if not for the fact that a few minutes later boney fingertips were touching his own. Tubby shook his head, still smiling and pretending not to notice until Stringer’s fingers were firmly intertwined with Tubby’s own. “Oh, loverboy,” Tubby said, causing Stringer to jump and retract his head, face flushing red. Tubby just laughed in response. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy, huh?” Tubby quietly said, still laughing. “Oh my god, shut up.” “You're the one who tried to hold my hand!” Stringer just sighed through his teeth, “You better have a license, because you're driving me crazy…” “I've got a learner’s permit, that good enough?” “Oh my god,” Stringer replied, the two laughing again. Tubby sighed nervously, “Let’s stop flirting and start working on the project, okay?” “Project of stealing my heart, but you've already passed.” “Stringer…!” Stringer sighed again, happily, still chuckling. He grabbed Tubby’s hand again. “Would you get mad at me if I kissed you?” Tubby blinked in surprise, turning to look at him. He quickly smiled, “Ask me again once you have.” But then anxiety flooded both their faces. Stringer moved forward, about to place a kiss anywhere but his lips. Tubby pulled away before he could. “You slip a-way from me, I tell the tru-u-uth…” Stringer softly sang, Tubby looked back up at him. “...are you singing?” “Yes?” “A song you wrote?” “Lyrics and chords have certainly been sitting in my head for a while.” Tubby stared at him, curiosity and infatuation across his face, “Go grab your guitar, I wanna hear the rest of it.” But Stringer looked nervous, standing and grabbing the instrument against the door. He then sat down on Tubby’s bed. Stringer started to tune, trying his hardest not to look at Tubby, who seemed to be looking so deeply into the person on his bed that Stringer would lose his soul. “It’s not very long... Stringer informed, “Or very good.” “It’ll be amazing,” Tubby encouraged airily, a light smile on his face. Stringer turned red, clearing his throat, before he started singing quietly, “I reach out to feel, your hand but, baby, you are slippery as an eel… hey, what do you do? You slip a-way from me, I tell the truth. What can I do-o-o-o? I wanna capture you.” Tubby stood up and grabbed his bass, standing in front of Stringer and plucking some strings, hoping they’d sound good. Stringer went on. “I’m feelin’ righteous, if I should capture- if I could ''capture you,” he quietly cursed himself, but went on anyway. Tubby giggled. “You slip a-way from me, I tell the truth-” “What can I do-o-o-o…” Tubby interrupted, moving his instrument away and caressing Stringer’s face, “I wanna capture you.” Stringer made a sound, terribly flustered at the contact. After several seconds, he managed to squeak out an, “I love you.” “I know.” ''“Tubbyyyy…” Tubby laughed, putting their foreheads together, “I love you, too.” (...) “Cuties, the lot of you,” Scotty murmured after Stringer finished. He then faced Tubby, “I see why you call him Mr. Loverboy.” The two giggled, staring at eachother lovingly. “You two ever write that song down?” Scotty went on after a second, letting them have their moment. “Mhm,” Tubby answered. “Still have it?” “Sure,” Tubby went on, a mischievous smile on his face, “But it's in Stringer’s terrible highschool handwriting.” “Excuse you, Mr. Small Cursive,” Stringer retorted. “Yeah? Yeah, what?” “...in my defense, I can't make out either of our old handwritings,” he conceded. Tubby laughed, sitting up from his place on the couch to kiss him. Scotty spoke, softly to himself, turning away, “I’d say capturing was a mission success.” Category:Rewrite Category:Stories